Scum of the Earth
by PocketPamela
Summary: "Who kicks puppies? Mike can answer that question: assholes. Assholes kick puppies. Lowlife assholes." Mike and Harvey run into an abusive pet owner on the streets. Harvey goes 'Animal Cops: Houston' on the guy's ass. Warning: Slight animal abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**HELLO AGAIN GUYS. You're probably getting sick of me. That's okay. I don't mind. Here's yet another story—This is one I'm filling over on the SuitsMeme—It's a prompt on animal abuse. Obvsly. Enjoy.**

**Warning: Includes brief descriptions of animal abuse, which probably is a touchy subject for some people? So yeah.**

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><p>Mike Ross automatically, subconsciously, catalogues everything he sees; with a memory like his, if he wants, he could recall who walked next to him in the supermarket five days ago. He doesn't really pay attention to anything he's cataloging, though. Strangers are interesting to watch when he's bored, but right at that moment, he has a job to do. He's listening to Harvey lecture about the proper way to drink scotch, when his boss suddenly just stops and Mike sees him. <em>Him.<em> The _bastard._

He used to be best friends with a drug addict and dealer, his roommate freshman year of college had a foot fetish, and his neighbor in his apartment building has probably jumped more people than Mike has _slept_ with, but this man, the one in plain sight, disgusts Mike. People like him are _disgusting._

The man is kicking a _puppy._ Who kicks _puppies?_

Mike can answer that question: **assholes. **Assholes kick puppies. Lowlife assholes. Harvey is an asshole, but he doesn't kick puppies.

3.8 seconds after seeing the man attacking the puppy, Mike switches from shock and disgust to anger. Red-hot anger. He'd like to kick the man until he literally shatters his leg and physically cannot kick anymore. He'd like to punch the man's face until the damage is so bad that even plastic surgery can't help him, so that when people ask him what happens, he has to tell them that he _kicked _a _puppy_ and that's why—

Apparently, Harvey hates puppy-kickers as much as Mike does, because suddenly his boss isn't at his side anymore, he's up in the man's personal space, and god, Mike has to hear this.

He quickly follows his boss, reading his lips until he gets within hearing range. His boss is acting calm, too calm, which means the man is about to be dead soon. No one survives when Harvey uses his _you-are-about-to-be-in-a-world-of-pain _look.

"Well, good sir," Harvey bites out sarcastically, his hands clenching, his façade dropped, "I hope you know that karma isn't real, but I am." The man looks at him, alarmed by the sudden change in his tone of voice, when Harvey turns slightly to Mike and says, "Mike, grab the dog."

Mike quickly jumps in to do just that, picking up the tiny creature that had been lying at the man's feet. The puppy is shaking in Mike's arms, white fur matted with blood. Mike has to physically calm himself down so he doesn't accidentally hurt the dog. _That. Bastard. _By the time he looks back up at his boss, Harvey has the man pinned against the outer wall of a bank. A lady slows down as if to see if the man—_abuser—_is in trouble, but upon seeing the puppy in Mike's arms and Harvey's glare, she understands and her eyes get a little misty, and she quickly walks away.

"And right now, I'm here to deliver some justice. My name is Harvey Specter. You're going to need to know that later on, so you can tell all your friends about how the best corporate lawyer in New York City kicked your ass for beating on a defenseless animal. And then, when the media catches wind of this—they will, I have connections—they will know all about you. I read body language for a living, and that shit's pretty insightful, so let me tell you this: you're a lowlife asshole who is probably the manager of a convenience store. You demean and humiliate your employees, _and you will die alone."_

'Ho-ly shit.'

"That hit a nerve? Good, dumbass. You see that puppy in my associate's arms? When people see pictures of it—which they will—they will want to take it home with them and dote on it until it feels better. Because it's a baby animal. You, on the other hand? If I had my way with you the way I want to right now, people would look at your face and not blink an eye. Because no one, and I repeat, _no one, _feels bad for an asshole who gets his kicks out of beating the shit out of puppies." The man stared at Harvey, petrified, and if he weren't scum-of-the-Earth, Mike would feel bad, because damn, his boss is intimidating.

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><p><strong>Oh god I googled pictures of abused puppies to base this puppy off off BUT OH GOD DON'T EVER DO THAT, EVER.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

"Now, dick, how much money do you have on you?"

The man continued to just stare at Harvey, so he repeated himself, "How. Much. Money. Do. You. Have. With. You?"

The man, still pinned against the wall, made a face and asked, "Why the fuck would you want to know that?"

And Harvey? He growled in response. A shiver ran down Mike's spine: Harvey was an attractive man when he was angry. Even so, Mike is glad that he's never pissed Havey off that bad.

"Mike?"

"Yeah, Harvey?"

"Reach into his pocket and grab his wallet for me, will ya, kid?"

"Whoa, whoa, what?" The man asked, squirming in Harvey's hold.

Harvey grinned maliciously, and then asked, "You wanna tell us which pocket it's in? Make my associate's life a little easier?"

The man suddenly stopped squirming, and smirked, looking pleased with himself. "Nope, he's gonna have to go in blind. Sorry."

Mike floundered for a second, unsure, but decided that disobeying Harvey would probably be a bad idea. He hesitantly put his hand in the guy's left pocket and came up empty. As he was pulling his hand out, the man groaned and exclaimed, "My, my, you're the prettiest boy to ever search me. Continue, please."

Mike tensed, confused by the man's sudden change in attitude-he went from scared to confident and downright creepy-and stared at Harvey, looking for answers. His boss's eyes were on the abuser, ignoring Mike's questioning gaze, so he steeled himself and continued.

After searching two other pockets and trying to ignore the obscene noises the man had continuously made, Mike found the wallet and gingerly pulled it out, handing it to Harvey. His boss nodded slightly, and Mike took that as permission to back away.

Standing back and clutching the puppy in his arms, Mike took a few deep breaths. Maybe he was a wuss, but the creepy abusive asshole had shaken him. He tuned out the man and Harvey's interaction and instead focused on the dog.

**I hate how creepy I wrote this asshole..**


	3. Chapter 3

_I don't know what I'm doing anymore. OH SHIT GUYS I THOUGHT I ADDED THIS DAYS AGO._

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><p>The puppy in Mike's arms looked like the dog in the Cesar dog food commercials, just smaller, more fragile. It—he, Mike checked,-was still shaking, probably still terrified of the man pressed up against the wall. Mike remembered reading that dogs had amazing senses of smell, and the puppy probably wouldn't calm down until he couldn't smell it's old owner anymore.<p>

_**Old owner**_, because there's no way that Mike is going home tonight without the puppy.

On further examination, Mike sees that the puppy is bleeding in some spots, and no, that just won't do. He can deal with sobbing clients and angry bar hoppers with ease, but bleeding puppies? Those are things he can't handle, along with sad children and the elderly (seeing his Gram shed a tear absolutely _kills _Mike.) He shrugged out of his jacket, and used it to press against the pup's wounds, stemming the flow of blood. Sure, this was a new jacket, but it's not like he couldn't fix that one or get a new one.

He'd probably get a new one. Harvey would kill him if he found out that Mike had re-worn a jacket that had been bloody.

The more he thought about it, the more Mike wanted to be off of the sidewalk and in a veterinarian's office. The dog didn't look well at all; he was way too skinny for an animal of his breed. He whimpered occasionally, and wrapped up in the black suit jacket, he was about the saddest thing he'd ever seen.

He must've been tuning out the rest of the world—he's become exceptional at doing that, his eidetic memory works a lot better when he's not unconsciously memorizing what people are saying along with what words he's reading—because when he raised his head and looked at his boss to tell Harvey that he was leaving—the dog needed a vet and he'd work late if he can just take some time off and get it help—he was met with something _completely unexpected. _It probably shouldn't have surprised him—he wanted to do the same thing five minutes ago—but somehow, seeing his boss beating up the man just made him freeze.

His boss had some _moves _and damn, the man was lethal. Mike knew he boxed, but this? This was borderline traumatizing. The abuser had probably tried to defend himself in the beginning, because Mike sees marks on Harvey's clothing from the man's dirty hands, but now the man was just standing there taking it. Mike didn't know if he was just feeling ridiculously vulnerable after being verbally sexually-assaulted by the man and watching a puppy get kicked, but he didn't like violence right about _now. _Besides, Harvey had pocketed the money from the man's wallet—probably to pay for the dog, _hopefully—_so this all seemed pretty unnecessary in Mike's mind. Well, all the blows delivered _after _the first 8—Mike knew he wanted to do at _least _that in the beginning.

"Harvey." He called to his boss quietly. "The puppy needs help, let's get going to the vet, okay?"

Harvey just stood there, mid-blow, with a mildly confused look on his face. Mike sighed, it seemed like Harvey had completely lost himself in hurting the man. _Damn, his boss was terrifying._

"He's bleeding, the puppy. I want to take it to a vet, so let's go, okay? Please? I'm sure this guy," he said, nodding to the battered abuser, "understands that hurting the weak is not acceptable. But I don't think the pup's alright."

Harvey's eyes widened, like he just realized what happened, and he stepped away from the man, uncharacteristically quiet. "Sure, Mike, let's go get the dog some help."

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><p><strong>Review? It'd be greatly appreciated.:] <strong>


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